


Little Wheels

by carolinecrane



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Groundhog Day, M/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if you had all the time in the world to make things right? A Groundhog Day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Wheels

“Hell of a way to spend Christmas,” Warrick muttered, glancing up from the dead tourist in the bed long enough to frown at Nick.

“We’re doing better than him,” Nick answered, motioning toward the body. As far as they could tell their tourist was single and in town for no real reason, and that usually spelled a pretty depressing Christmas, especially in Vegas. His wallet had been cleaned out and his suitcase thoroughly rifled through, so it wasn’t a big leap to assume he’d been rolled and then murdered by a trick.

Still, Nick was glad for the distraction. He wasn't glad someone was dead, but he was just as happy not to think about what day it was. Given the choice between spending the night at home alone and working a case, he'd much rather be working. So he didn't mind when Grissom and Sara drew Christmas Eve off, even if it meant spending the night dusting for prints in a seedy motel room. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but it beat watching reruns on TV and waiting around for his mother to call.

Not that he really felt like being back home this year, either. Spending Christmas with his family meant pretending everything was fine, that he was still happy to be alone and working the same job he'd been doing for the past eight years. Not that he was unhappy, exactly; he didn't know what he was anymore, and most of the time he tried not to think about it. So it was just as well he was working Christmas Eve, because it meant by the time their shift was over and he got some sleep, Christmas would already be behind him.

And it was funny how much things could change in a year, because last Christmas…but he wasn't thinking about that. He wasn't thinking about anything except evidence and motives, and when their shift was finally over all he was going to think about was bed. Alone, and that wasn't the way he'd been hoping this Christmas would go.

"You ready?" Warrick asked, and Nick nodded and straightened up. He swept the room one last time to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, then packed up his kit and followed Warrick back to the truck.

"You know we're going to have to run most of this stuff ourselves," Nick said as he set the box full of evidence in the back of the truck.

"I'm sure Hodges can drag himself away from the karaoke machine long enough to do his job."

Nick grinned and climbed into the passenger seat. "He's not going to like it."

"Yeah, well, you can be persuasive." Warrick set his jaw and pulled onto the deserted street, pointing the truck back toward the lab.

Twenty minutes later they were pulling into the parking lot, and Nick swallowed a sigh. Christmas Eve at the lab was the same every year, and usually he got a kick out of it. There was a ton of junk food weighing down the table in the break room, decorations all over the place and Christmas music playing at a volume that could wake the dead. Everyone inside was a lot more interested in celebrating than they were in processing evidence, and unless there was a really tricky case on the books Grissom let them get away with it.

Most years Nick wouldn't care; he'd blown off work on more than one Christmas Eve himself, but now that he was back at the lab all he wanted to do was get his job done and go home. Because yeah, his house was empty and kind of depressing, but at least everything there didn't remind him of what he was missing.

He grabbed his kit and the evidence and followed Warrick inside, footsteps slowing the closer they got to the door. From the outside it looked like just another night at the crime lab, but the second Warrick opened the door they were hit with a wall of sound. Christmas music was blasting from somewhere nearby, voices shouting over it and someone was laughing somewhere down the hall.

Nick took a deep breath and followed Warrick inside, heading straight for the trace lab. He ducked inside and shut the door against the music; it muffled the sound a little, but not that much. He expected to find the place empty, but to his surprise Hodges was inside, and he wasn't alone. He hadn't heard Nick come in, though how anyone in the lab could hear anything tonight Nick wasn't sure. Hodges had his back to Nick, and somehow he'd managed to corner one of the girls from the darkroom in his lab.

Nick had only dealt with her a few times, but she'd seemed pretty normal then. What she was doing alone with Hodges he wasn't sure, but from the way Hodges was leaning into her, Nick was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with a case. Nick waited another couple seconds, but when Hodges leaned in for the kill he cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said when Hodges flinched and looked up. "I need you to run these."

"Now?" Hodges asked – no, he was definitely whining. "Can't it wait? It’s not like the guy’s going to come back to life overnight."

"Just do it, Hodges," Nick said. "Besides, it looks to me like you've got plenty of time."

Hodges turned in time to watch his girl slip out the back door of the lab, and Nick took the opportunity to leave out the front. He could hear Hodges swearing behind him, and he smiled to himself as he headed down the hall. The noise was even louder now, like the party had spilled out of the break room and was headed straight for him. He ducked down a hallway, but the noise just seemed to get louder, voices bearing down on him from what sounded like both directions. And he didn't want to deal with this, didn't want to explain why he wasn't in the mood to celebrate.

He ducked into the nearest room as the voices closed in on him, closing the door behind him and pressing his back to it. He waited for the voices to pass, but as soon as he shut the door they were gone. And that was weird, because the lab was a lot of things, but it definitely wasn't soundproof. Nick frowned and looked around the room for the first time, but when he saw that he wasn't alone he forgot all about the people outside.

Greg was sitting at the table in the center of the room, files spread out around him and his headphones hanging around his neck. He was frowning like Nick had interrupted something, but from the looks of it he was just doing paperwork. "What are you doing?"

"Avoiding the party," Nick answered. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to find a quiet place to catch up on these," Greg said, gesturing at the case files in front of him. "And I've still got a ways to go, so if you don't mind…"

"You're doing paperwork on Christmas Eve? Usually you're the life of the party."

"Yeah, well, things change."

Greg wasn't looking at him anymore. He'd been doing that a lot lately, avoiding eye contact and only talking to Nick when he had to. And Nick had been sort of relieved, because the last thing he wanted to do was talk about what had happened between them. Not that there was much to talk about; there hadn’t been a big argument, or even a conversation, really. Greg had asked for some space and Nick had given it to him, and when he never brought it up again, Nick just…let it go. Relationships ended all the time; that's what he told himself whenever he caught himself thinking about it, and in their line of work he was surprised they’d lasted as long as they did.

So yeah, things changed. But Greg had always loved Christmas Eve at the lab, and to find him hiding out with his head buried in a stack of paperwork…well, it was kind of weird. Except that it wasn’t, at least not lately. Lately Greg had been serious all the time, focused and efficient and Nick had been sort of proud of him. Except that he wasn’t any _fun_ anymore, and if things weren’t so weird between them Nick might have taken him out for a beer and tried to figure out why.

That’s what he would do if it were Warrick. But with Greg a couple beers could lead places Warrick would never go, and Nick wasn’t sure he wanted to complicate things again. It was hard, dating a coworker, worrying constantly when Greg was out on a case. Or worrying about his own focus when he and Greg were assigned to a case together, waiting for the day Grissom would call him in and tell him it was his relationship or his job. It was easier not to have to worry about that stuff, even if it meant going home to an empty bed every night.

At least it would have been easier if he didn’t know what he was missing. But he did, and no matter how many times he told himself they were better off, he still caught himself wondering what he could have done differently. Not all the time, but often enough to make him wish he’d stayed out in the hall and let the party catch up to him.

“Listen, G…”

Greg let out a sigh and looked up, and the look on his face made Nick’s heart twist. “Look, I really want to get these done, okay?”

And yeah, Nick got what he was saying, but it wasn’t okay. It was anything but okay, because just a year ago they would have done anything for this much time alone in the lab, and now Greg was trying to get rid of him. He knew he should just let it go, that he should leave Greg to it and go find somewhere else to hide out until his results were ready. He even started to pull the door open, but before he was halfway out of the room he glanced back to find Greg watching him.

Just for a second, then Greg ducked his head again, but it was long enough for Nick to catch his expression. Long enough to see that Greg hadn’t forgotten, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he’d never thought of Nick as anything other than a coworker. “Look, it’s…”

“What do you want from me?” Greg interrupted, and when he looked up this time his expression was unreadable.

“I don’t know,” Nick answered, because it was the truth. He’d been about to remind Greg that it was Christmas; paperwork could wait until tomorrow, or maybe even the next day. They were always backed up on old files, and Greg didn’t have to drive himself crazy trying to impress anybody anymore. He’d proved himself, and Nick would have told him all that if he hadn’t seen the look on Greg’s face.

“Just leave me alone, Nick. Go find somebody else to rescue.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asked, but Greg wasn’t listening. He was gathering up the files spread out in front of him, and a second later he was brushing past Nick into the hallway without so much as a backwards glance.

Nick wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching Greg walk away, but it wasn’t until his pager beeped that he realized he was staring down an empty hallway. The party noise had all but died away, and he let out a sigh and turned to retrace his steps back to Hodges’ lab. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but the sooner he wrapped up his case and called it a night, the better off he’d be.

~

Nick woke with a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right, and he still hadn’t shaken it by the time he got back to the lab. Maybe it was because his mother had never called to wish him a Merry Christmas. He told himself he should be grateful; not talking to his family meant he could avoid thinking about Christmas altogether, and by the time they remembered to call him he’d have snapped out of the weird funk he’d fallen into.

But something still felt…off, and he glanced over his shoulder more than once as he made his way into the lab. Decorations were still hanging on the reception desk and down the halls, but they usually stayed up for a long time after Christmas was over. Someone was playing Christmas music, too, but that, at least, Grissom would put an end to after tonight.

Nick dropped his stuff in his locker and put on his vest and badge, then joined Warrick in the break room. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Warrick answered, glancing up from the case file he was holding. “You’re with me tonight. Night manager found a John Doe in one of the rooms at the motor inn out by the airport.”

“Another one?”

“Just another night in Vegas,” Warrick said. “Listen, I’ll meet you out there. I’ve got a couple calls to make.”

“But we were just there last night,” Nick said, but Warrick was already gone. Nick frowned and followed him out of the break room, stopping long enough to grab his keys and his kit. And now he was sure there was something wrong, because that was the second death in the same motel in two days, and Warrick didn’t seem concerned that they could be dealing with a serial killer. Or a really sloppy killer, and Nick wasn’t sure which one was more dangerous.

When he reached the motor inn he pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine, frowning in his rearview mirror at the uniforms swarming around the crime scene. They weren’t far from the room they’d worked the night before; as a matter of fact, they were pretty much right on top of it. Nick grabbed his kit and headed toward the room in question, footsteps slowing as he reached the open door.

“The same room? What’s the killer doing, paying by the week?”

The uniform closest to him shot him a weird look, but Nick ignored it and went inside. He stopped just inside the door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, then set his kit on the carpet and opened it. As he reached for a pair of gloves he caught sight of what he assumed was the victim’s suitcase, and sure enough, when he looked up there was the same black suitcase he’d seen the night before. Granted, it wasn’t exactly uncommon; practically every businessman who came through Vegas owned one of those things. But Nick couldn’t help thinking something was really wrong, and when he stood up and crossed to the bed the hair on the back of his neck prickled.

“What the…?”

There was no way this could be happening. Someone had to be playing an elaborate and really unfunny joke, because there was no way…yet there the guy was, lying in the exact same position he’d been in the night before. The blood patterns were the same as the ones Warrick had photographed, and the same glassy eyes were staring up at nothing.

“Hell of a way to spend Christmas.”

Nick started at the sound of Warrick’s voice, but it was the words themselves that made his heart skip a beat. He watched Warrick set his own kit down and swing the camera bag off his shoulder, watched him take out the camera and attach the flash before he got his voice to work.

“Is this a joke?”

“Looks like a corpse to me.”

“I’m serious.”

And now Warrick was looking at him like he’d lost his mind, but Nick was pretty sure he hadn’t gone crazy. At least he thought he hadn’t, but he couldn’t be positive. Not when he was staring at the same crime scene they’d already processed only twenty-four hours ago.

“What’s with you tonight?” Warrick asked as he crossed to the bed and started snapping pictures. It was exactly what he’d done the night before, and now that Nick thought about it, he was wearing the same clothes he’d had on last night, too.

“You’re telling me you don’t remember any of this.”

“What are you talking about? I just got here.”

“No,” Nick said, letting out a frustrated sigh and gesturing toward the corpse on the bed. “I mean last night. We worked this scene already, man. You were bitching about having to work Christmas Eve. Don't you remember?”

And okay, definitely the wrong thing to say, because now Warrick was looking at him like he was _dangerous_ and crazy. “Nick, man, tonight _is_ Christmas Eve."

“But…” Nick trailed off, mouth opening and closing a few times before he gave up. He was sure he'd been here before; sure they'd already worked this case and gone through this whole miserable night. He'd made it through Christmas Eve already, he was positive. But if this was all a joke it had gone on way too long, and Warrick wasn't that good an actor.

"Maybe you should go home, get some rest," Warrick said, and Nick could tell he was trying not to call Nick crazy to his face. But he _felt_ crazy, and part of him wondered if maybe he should take Warrick's advice.

Instead he shook his head and turned toward his kit so he wouldn't have to see the look on Warrick's face. "Forget it. Must have been a dream."

"Hell of a dream."

"Yeah." And it must have been a dream, except that Nick knew it wasn’t. He’d already worked this case, lifted a thousand useless fingerprints from this room, collected the same evidence he was about to collect again. He remembered every detail, and he couldn’t have dreamed all that. But the only other explanation was that he’d lost his mind, and if that was true he had much bigger problems than spending Christmas alone.

They worked the rest of the scene in silence, and Nick tried to ignore the wary looks Warrick shot him every so often. Working the same scene twice made it a little easier, anyway, and he was finished collecting evidence by the time Warrick was ready to go. He was grateful they’d taken separate cars tonight, because he didn’t think he could deal with riding back to the lab and pretending he didn’t know exactly what Warrick was thinking. And Nick was thinking the same thing; he’d finally snapped, the job had finally gotten to him and he’d lost it. The problem was that he wasn’t sure what to _do_ about it.

As soon as he got back to the lab he headed straight for trace, but when he pushed the door open he stopped short. Hodges was there, exactly where Nick had found him the night before, and he had the same girl cornered behind his workstation. He couldn't tell from where he was standing whether or not the girl needed rescuing, but for once he didn't really care. All he really cared about was making it through the night. Again.

"Hodges.”

Hodges flinched and looked up exactly the way he had the last time they did this. “What?”

“You’ve got work to do,” Nick answered, dropping the samples in his box and heading back toward the door.

“Can’t it wait? It’s not like…”

“Just do it,” Nick interrupted, not bothering to look over his shoulder to see if the girl had made her escape again. The last thing he needed was another confirmation that he was losing it; it was like walking around in a constant state of déjà vu, and the sooner he got out of the lab and went home, the sooner it would all be over.

He deliberately avoided the hall he’d gone down the night before, heading straight toward the sounds of the party instead. There was still the possibility that Warrick was wrong; maybe he was the one who’d lost a day, and the party going on in the break room was just a continuation from last night. Only that didn’t explain the fact that they’d just worked the same crime scene two nights in a row.

Nick shook his head and pushed open the break room door, cutting a wide path around the mistletoe hanging near the microwave. He reached the coffee maker without incident and poured himself a cup, breathing in the rich scent and trying not to hear the conversations going on around him. It was hard to ignore that many excited voices, though, and when he caught someone rattling off their plans for Christmas day, he knew Warrick hadn’t been the one who’d gotten his days wrong.

“You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Nick turned to find Catherine watching him, and when he moved out of the way she reached for her own cup of coffee. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

“Yeah, this case is a real bitch,” she answered. “Suicide. Just what you want to deal with on Christmas Eve.”

Nick nodded and took a sip of coffee, wincing at the bitter flavor that told him Greg wasn’t the one who’d made it. “We’ve all been there.”

“All of us except Greg. He’s having a pretty rough night,” Catherine said, glancing around the room like she expected to see Greg lurking nearby. But he wasn’t around, and Nick had a sinking feeling he knew exactly where Greg was. And now he knew what had been bothering Greg when Nick found him alone in a room doing paperwork instead of partying with the rest of the lab. It wasn’t the first suicide Greg had ever dealt with, but it was always a little harder to take during the holidays, especially when they were working instead of home with their families.

Only neither of them had family in town, and this year they didn’t have anyone at all. At least Nick assumed Greg wasn’t seeing anyone; he hadn’t mentioned anyone, but that didn’t mean much. He didn’t talk to Nick anymore, not the way he used to before, back when they were just friends. After they stopped sleeping together Nick sort of hoped they’d go back to the way it was before, but now he was pretty sure that was never going to happen.

“Earth to Nick.”

Nick started at the sound of Catherine’s voice, blushing when he realized she’d been trying to get his attention for a little while. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’ve seen Greg. I should check on him, make sure he’s okay.”

Nick started to offer to do it himself. The words were right there on the tip of his tongue, _It’s okay, I’ll find him,_ like it was his responsibility. Maybe it had been, once. Maybe Catherine was waiting for him to offer, he couldn’t tell. But he’d already blown it once, and if he was going to relive the same night twice he didn’t want to have to relive the look on Greg’s face when he told Nick to get lost.

“He’s in the small conference room by the trace lab. I think he’s catching up on paperwork.”

For a minute Catherine just looked at him, and Nick could tell she wanted to say something. But before he figured out what it was, she shrugged and set her coffee down. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he called after her as he watched her cross the room and head down the hall in search of Greg. And he wasn’t sorry he hadn’t gone himself; he’d already tried talking to Greg, and one day wasn’t going to make any difference.

~

Nick woke to the beeping of his alarm clock. He let out a groan and pushed one arm out from under the covers to turn it off, then flipped over onto his back. He should get up and take a shower, find some clothes and get to the lab a little early for once. What he _wanted_ to do was close his eyes and go right back to sleep, forget about work and the weird day he’d had yesterday. He just wanted to keep sleeping until everything went back to normal, but he was starting to think it never would.

Greg hated him, and Nick had never meant for that to happen. He wasn’t even sure _how_ it happened, because Greg was the one who’d ended things between them. And he got it; he understood why Greg wanted space. At least he’d thought at the time that he did. They just spent too much time together, and there was no way they could work together and not bring their cases home with them. So the easiest solution seemed to be to stop going home together at all, no matter how much Nick missed it.

He missed having someone to wake up with, missed arguing over the Sunday paper and trying to figure out whose cell phone was ringing in the middle of the night. He missed breakfasts after their shift was over and he missed calls in the middle of a case just so he could hear Greg’s voice. He missed _Greg_ , only he hadn’t realized how much until it was too late.

And it was definitely too late. The look on Greg’s face last night – no, the night before last – had proved that. Nick had never been all that great at relationships, but he knew when to take a hint, and Greg didn’t have to spell it out for him to get the message. Still, he’d somehow lived through the same day twice, and the only person he really wanted to talk to about it was Greg. Greg who wouldn’t believe him anyway, but at least he’d _listen_. Or he would have, anyway, before everything went wrong.

Nick sighed and forced himself out of bed, stopping in the bathroom before he headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. While the coffee brewed he wandered out to the living room to turn on the television, flipping through the channels until he landed on CNN. He waited through stories about a shooting in New York, some celebrity who got another DUI, and the latest political disaster before the newscaster finally said the date, but when she did his heart sank.

December 24. But it was impossible; there was no way this was happening again, because if it was he really had gone crazy. People didn’t get caught in time loops, at least not outside the movies. Nick turned off the television and headed for his computer, turning on the monitor and holding his breath while he checked the date in the corner of the screen: December 24.

He pulled up Yahoo, then the local news station’s website, his heart sinking a little more every time he saw the date. And this couldn’t be happening, but it was, and he had no idea why. It wasn’t even like today was anything special; there was nothing going on in the lab, and his case was pretty straightforward. Unless they weren’t looking hard enough at their dead tourist, Nick didn’t get what he was missing.

Two cups of coffee and a shower later, Nick headed to work early. He wasn’t sure how, but he was going to figure out what he needed to do to fix whatever was happening to him. There had to be something he was missing, and if it took him all night he was going to find it. He had to, because if he didn’t he’d be living the same night over and over until he really did go crazy.

The past two nights he’d gotten to work too late to see Greg and Catherine before they left, but tonight he was the first one in. Instead of hanging around the break room he headed for an available computer and typed the name of tonight’s DB into CODIS. And it was a little creepy, knowing the name of the victim before he saw the case file, but the past two days had been pretty creepy, so he didn’t let it bother him.

Instead he searched the guy’s DMV records and dug around for any known aliases. He ran a list of all the guy’s addresses and the dates he’d moved on, hoping to uncover some kind of pattern that would prove this guy was a serial killer or a pedophile or _something_ to explain why Nick had to keep processing his crime scene over and over.

He ran every report he could think of, but no matter how hard he looked, all signs pointed to this guy being the most boring loser in the world. He practically didn’t exist, and Nick was pretty sure there was no one back home to mourn his passing. It was depressing, and by the time Warrick tracked him down he sort of wished he hadn’t looked in the first place.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Nick answered, minimizing the screen before Warrick got a preview of the face they were about to discover dead in a motel. “Got here a little early, so I figured I’d catch up on some old cases.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve got a new one,” Warrick said, holding up the case file. “At that motor inn out by the airport, you know the one.”

“Yeah, I do,” Nick said, swallowing a sigh as he stood up to follow Warrick.

And he knew he wasn’t going to find anything new, but Nick scoured the scene carefully anyway, hunting for any clue that would tell him why he kept ending up here. He ignored the weird looks Warrick kept giving him, pretended he was being thorough because it was their job and not because he needed answers. But there was nothing new at the scene, and by the time Warrick dragged him away Nick had to admit that all signs still pointed to a trick gone bad.

So the guy was rolled and murdered by a hooker or maybe her pimp, and that was probably the most interesting thing that had ever happened to him. Nick dropped off the evidence he’d collected in Hodges’ lab, not even bothering to announce his presence this time. Hodges wasn’t going to find anything different than he’d found the past two nights, and none of that had been any help at all. So it was up to Nick to find the answer, which meant a long night scouring every resource the county had for some kind of trail on this guy.

He went back to the computer first, running phone records and credit card charges. But nothing about the guy’s personal life told him anything; even his _job_ was boring, and Nick couldn’t call the accounting firm where he’d worked until after the holiday. There was no surveillance video to sift through, no phone messages to play back or computer files to decipher. The guy was a non-entity, and unless he turned up something huge, Nick didn’t see how this case was important enough to keep investigating over and over.

He let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes tight against the headache pounding in his temples. When a door opened he blinked and looked up, frowning at the sight of Greg standing there with an armful of files.

“Sorry. I’ll find somewhere else to work.”

“No, I’m done anyway,” Nick said, standing up and holding out the chair for Greg. The sounds of the party going on down the hall drifted in behind Greg, and Nick realized with a start that he’d barely thought about what day it was since he got to work. “Big case?”

“No,” Greg said, and just for a second his eyes clouded. Then he blinked and it was gone, but Nick knew exactly what it meant. Catherine was right; Greg was having a hard time with their case, and it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ve got a bunch of files to input though, so…”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick answered, but he stayed where he was, leaning back against the counter to watch while Greg settled into the computer chair and opened his first file. “You want some coffee or something? I bet I could fight my way through the party.”

“That’s not coffee.” The words tumbled out of Greg’s mouth automatically, but as soon as he said them he looked like he regretted it. “Thanks anyway. I just want to get this stuff done.”

Nick nodded even though Greg wasn’t looking at him, arms folded over his chest as he watched Greg’s fingers move across the keyboard. If he closed his eyes he could picture those fingers up close, see the tiny scar on the side of an index finger where a piece of glass had caught Greg during the explosion. He could feel the pressure of them on his skin, warm and sure and Nick shivered at the memory.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me? Because it’s kind of creepy.”

A year ago that would have been a joke, or maybe an invitation. A year ago Greg would have smirked while he said it, and Nick would have tossed his better judgment out the window and crossed the room to whisper exactly what he wanted to watch Greg do. At least that’s what he _should_ have done, but the truth was that a year ago he was still worried about what everyone else thought – what Grissom thought – and if Greg had said that to him he probably would have blushed and gone to find something else to do.

And Greg was saying it now, but he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t teasing or flirting or any of the things that he’d been back then, and Nick wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see that smirk directed at him again. “Sorry. It’s been a weird night.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected Greg to say. The old Greg might have made a crack about how every night was weird in Vegas, or maybe he would have offered to help Nick forget about it after their shift. But this Greg…well, he didn’t say anything at all. He didn’t even look up, and Nick got the distinct impression that Greg was just waiting for him to give up and go away.

“Listen, G,” he tried again, “there’s something weird going on around here. I know it sounds crazy…”

“Aren’t you working with Warrick tonight?” Greg asked, glancing up long enough for Nick to catch the same annoyed expression he’d seen the last time he tried to talk to Greg. “Maybe you should be telling him this.”

“It’s not about a case. I just…”

“Look, Nick, I just want to get these files done so I can go home, all right?”

And that was it. Greg was blowing him off and there was nothing Nick could do about it. He couldn’t _make_ Greg listen, and even if he kept talking Greg would just think he was crazy. Because it _was_ crazy, and if Nick couldn’t believe what was happening to him, he couldn’t expect anyone else to, either. Only he’d kind of hoped…but it was stupid to think Greg would listen when he was the one who’d wanted to break up in the first place.

“Yeah, sure,” Nick said, pushing himself off the counter. He hesitated for a second or two, hoping that maybe Greg would change his mind and call him back. But he didn’t, and a minute later Nick was standing alone in the hallway, wondering if he was ever going to be able to fix any of this.

~

Nick’s fourth Christmas Eve started like all the rest. He checked the news and the Internet just in case, but it was still December 24th. And there had to be a reason for it, but it wasn’t the case he was working on. He’d exhausted every avenue he could think of on that case, and he knew Warrick thought he was crazy for working so hard on something so cut and dried. Except that Warrick wouldn’t remember any of that today, and Nick was starting over with a clean slate.

And maybe that was the whole point; a clean slate meant he had the chance to do everything differently, including the case he worked on. He got to the lab and headed straight for Grissom’s office, hoping to catch Catherine before she assigned cases. Convincing her to shuffle her assignments without making her think he was crazy was a problem, and he was so caught up in figuring out what to say to her that he didn’t see Greg coming toward him until it was too late.

They collided hard enough to send Nick backwards, nearly losing his balance before he righted himself and looked up. “Sorry. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Greg answered, and for a second he looked almost amused. Nick’s heart skipped a beat at the glimmer of a smile, but before it really appeared it was gone again, and then Greg was moving past him. “Warrick’s looking for you.”

Which meant he was too late and cases had already been assigned. But Nick wasn’t going through another repeat of the last three nights, and if he could spare Greg another night of dealing with a suicide, maybe it would be worth it. He reached out before Greg could get away, closing a hand around his arm.

“Hey, maybe you should work with Rick tonight.”

“Why?”

This was the part he hadn’t worked out; it was one thing to ask Catherine if he could work with her, but he hadn’t figured out how to explain to Greg why he wanted to trade. Not without admitting that he was going crazy, and Greg wouldn’t believe him anyway.

“I got a look at the cases earlier,” he lied. “I just thought you’d rather spend Christmas Eve processing a motel room than dealing with a dead teenager.”

“Oh, so I can’t handle my cases now.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nick said, but he knew Greg wouldn’t believe him. He had no reason to, because that was exactly how it sounded. But he couldn’t tell Greg that he knew how all this ended, or even that he was just trying to spare him a little pain. He couldn’t say how much he missed the way Greg used to be before this job started coming down on him, that he wished they could go back to the days when Greg was the one to get the party started on every holiday, and sometimes just because it was a Thursday.

He missed a lot of things, but he couldn’t make Greg understand any of it without telling him what had been happening the past four days. And he wanted to, but he knew Greg wouldn’t believe him even if he tried.

“Forget it, Nick,” Greg said, and now he just looked pissed. “I don’t need to you save me from myself. Go find somebody else to rescue.”

It was the second time Greg had said that to him in four days, and it was the second time he turned around and walked away without an explanation. “What does that even mean?” Nick called after him, but Greg didn’t even turn around.

Nick let out a frustrated sigh and turned in the other direction only to find Warrick watching him. “What?” he snapped, and when Warrick held up his hands Nick felt a stab of guilt.

“Just wondering if you’re working tonight,” Warrick said, holding up their case. And Nick was getting really sick of processing the same motel room over and over again. If he was going to be stuck reliving the same crime scene on an endless loop, at least it could have been in a casino or something.

“Sorry,” Nick muttered, but he took the file and followed Warrick down the hall. “I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

“Forget it,” Warrick said as they stopped to pick up their kits. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I haven’t seen paradise in a long time,” Nick answered, and when Warrick made a face Nick couldn’t help laughing. “I mean things with Greg have been over for awhile.”

“So I heard,” Warrick said in that voice that told Nick he didn’t believe it for a minute.

Nick frowned but didn’t argue with him; he knew how the lab gossip mill worked, and he knew people were going to believe whatever they wanted. Nothing he said was going to convince anyone things between him and Greg were over, especially when they’d tried so hard to keep it quiet while it was happening. “It’s just…he keeps saying that.”

“What?”

”That I should find somebody else to rescue. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

And Nick could usually count on Warrick to be as clueless about this stuff as he was, at least when it came to Greg. But instead of shaking his head and commiserating about relationships, Warrick just laughed. “Man, you still haven’t figured that out?”

“What?” Nick asked, and now he was just getting annoyed. It was bad enough he had to keep reliving the same night – and when they pulled up in front of the motor inn for the fourth night his heart sank – but now Warrick was making fun of him.

“It’s your thing, man. Look, we all do this job for a reason, right?” Warrick said when Nick frowned at him. “For Sara it’s about the science. Gris....”

“Grissom does better with people who can’t talk back.”

“Exactly,” Warrick said. “Greg’s a frustrated rock star; he saw us in the spotlight for years, and he wanted a piece of the action. Catherine sticks with it because it’s as close to the nightlife as she can get and still look her kid in the eye. And you have a thing about saving people. Everybody knows that.”

“I’m just doing my job, man.”

“We all are,” Warrick answered as they stepped under the police tape and into the crime scene. “We’ve just got different reasons for it.”

“Yeah? So what about you?”

Warrick shrugged and glanced over at him, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “When I figure that one out, I’ll let you know.”

Nick laughed and set his kit down, digging out a pair of gloves and pulling them on. “Okay, so I like helping people out when they need it. That doesn’t mean I’m trying to rescue Greg from anything.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Warrick said, turning away to dig the camera out of its case. Nick could tell he wanted to say more…or maybe he didn’t, but he was thinking it anyway. And Nick probably didn’t want to hear it, but he opened his mouth before he could stop himself.

“What?”

Warrick snapped a picture of the corpse on the bed before he sighed and looked up at Nick. “Look, it’s none of my business, man.”

“If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Warrick rolled his eyes and lowered the camera. “I heard what you said to him before. I know you probably thought you were helping him out, but he’s a big boy. He’s proved that he can handle the job by now.”

“I know,” Nick said, but he knew Warrick had a point, and Greg probably had good reason to be angry. Nick _had_ been trying to spare him the misery of dealing with a kid’s suicide, but he didn’t get why Greg would hold that against him. “But I didn’t do it because I thought he couldn’t handle it. I just thought he could use a break.”

Warrick shrugged and turned back to the crime scene, lifting the camera to take a few more pictures. “Like I said, none of my business.”

And it wasn’t, but Nick had a sinking feeling that Warrick understood the situation better than he did. The last few days had been way beyond weird, and the worst part was that Nick kept missing the point. If it wasn’t about the case and he couldn’t make Greg listen to him then there wasn’t much else he could do, but if he didn’t do _something_ there was no telling how long he’d be stuck living the same day over and over.

“Hell of a way to spend Christmas,” Warrick murmured from across the room, and Nick let out a heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” he said, and reached for his fingerprint kit. “It’s going to be a long night.”

~

On the fifth day, Nick had a plan. It was so simple that he could have kicked himself for not thinking of it before now. He told himself as he pulled into the coffee shop that it was better late than never, then he ordered the biggest cup of coffee he could get. It wasn’t as good as Greg’s – not even close – but it was caffeinated, and that was all that mattered.

He carried his giant cup into the lab and headed straight toward the break room, ignoring the Christmas decorations and the obnoxious music. This was the last night he was going to have to suffer through this; he was sure of that, because his plan had to work. When he reached the break room Greg was there, leaning into the fridge and Nick grinned at the back of his head before he cleared his throat. Greg started and straightened up, closing the fridge before he turned to look at Nick.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Greg said, eyeing Nick’s coffee. “How do you drink that stuff?”

“It’s not my first choice,” Nick answered, “but I don’t have your coffee budget. Besides, it’s never as good when you don’t make it.”

He didn’t _mean_ to flirt with Greg; it was one of those things that just happened, but that was how Nick had gotten himself into this mess in the first place. And his life was a lot less complicated without Greg in it, but it wasn’t nearly as fun.

For a few seconds Greg just stared at him like he was trying to figure out what Nick was saying, exactly. And maybe Nick would have told him if he knew the answer, but it had been a long few days and he wasn’t sure which end was up anymore. All he knew was that if his plan worked, Greg would remember this tomorrow. And maybe it wouldn’t fix anything, but Nick was hoping it was a start. But Greg still wasn’t saying anything, and as the seconds ticked by Nick began to wonder if he _could_ fix this.

“What are you doing?”

He wasn’t doing anything, as far as he knew, but it was obvious Greg thought he was. He was watching Nick with the same suspicious expression he used on suspects, and if Nick wasn’t so confused he might have thought it was cute. But it was exhausting, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing, and having to figure out Greg on top of that was more than he could take.

“Nothing,” he finally answered, shrugging and setting his coffee down. “I just thought…”

“Well don’t,” Greg interrupted, and now he just sounded mad. “Just…don’t.”

“Greg, wait,” Nick said, but he was already gone, the break room door swinging shut behind him. And Nick hadn’t expected a miracle, exactly, but he’d been hoping for a better reaction than _that_. He wasn’t even sure what that was, and if Greg kept taking off every time Nick tried to talk to him, he was never going to figure it out.

Nick sighed and followed Greg out of the room, down the hall to find Warrick and get started on their case. The thought of going through another night of chasing the same clues made him want to cry, and now he was going to spend the whole night trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong with Greg. He’d barely even said anything, and that was the part he didn’t get, because Greg had freaked out before Nick even got a chance to figure out what he was doing.

“Hey,” Warrick said when Nick caught up to him. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing,” Nick said, because he wasn’t having the same conversation with Warrick that they’d had the night before. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He processed the scene on autopilot, only half-listening to Warrick’s attempts at conversation. He’d heard the same words over and over now, and he just couldn’t work up the energy to answer anymore. All he wanted to do was get through their shift so he could go home and put his plan in motion, and then this whole miserable day would finally – _finally_ – be over.

By the time they made it back to the lab Warrick was looking at him like he’d lost his mind, but that wasn’t new either, so Nick just pretended he didn’t notice. He stopped by Hodges’ lab long enough to interrupt whatever he was trying to do with the girl from the photo lab, taking a twisted pleasure in watching her slip out the back door while Hodges argued with him.

Once Nick was sure he’d ruined Hodges’ night he finished the loose ends of his case as quickly as possible, going through the motions of running fingerprints and gathering the details about their vic’s life. There still wasn’t much to find out about him, and the more nights Nick spent running down this guy’s life, the more depressing it got. He was just so… _alone_ , no one at home to care what happened to him in some city where no one even cared that he’d ever existed.

It was a waste; the guy had never really lived, and when he finally decided to try, he got himself killed. And Nick’s life wasn’t empty like this guy’s had been, but it wasn’t all that fulfilling either. There was only one way to fix that, though, and so far all Nick had done was make things even worse.

He tracked Greg down in the same conference room he’d found him in that first night, files spread out in front of him and a haunted expression on his face. When he looked up and found Nick standing in the doorway he looked sort of surprised for a second, then he frowned and looked down at his files. “What?”

“Rough case?”

“No,” Greg answered, but Nick knew him well enough to tell when he was lying. “The kid killed himself, no mystery there. Look, did you come in here to hear about my night? Because I’m trying to get this paperwork done.”

“No. I mean yeah…I mean…I just wanted to talk. Things have been pretty weird the past few days, G. I was hoping you could help me figure it out.”

“Weird how?”

And it wasn’t exactly enthusiasm, but it was progress, so Nick let the door close and stepped into the room. He pulled out a chair across from Greg and sat down, elbows resting on the table in front of him. “This is going to sound crazy.”

“’Abducted by aliens’ crazy or ‘I’m hearing voices’ crazy?”

Nick grinned at that, and when the corner of Greg’s mouth quirked into a half-smile his heart skipped a beat. “More like ‘call the guys in white coats’ crazy. I keep living the same day over and over.”

“So you're bothering me because you need a break from the monotony?”

“No,” Nick interrupted, and he wished it were that easy. “I mean the _same_ day. Christmas Eve. Over and over. I’ve woken up on Christmas Eve five days in a row. I’ve worked that motel room with Rick five days in a row, and every morning I go home and wake up to the same day all over again.”

Greg didn’t say anything right away. He just sat there and looked at Nick for so long that Nick started to think maybe he wasn’t going to say anything at all, but finally he shook his head. “I saw that movie too, Nick. Did you really think I was going to fall for that?”

“I know how it sounds,” Nick said, but he could already tell Greg was never going to believe him. And for the first time since this all started he sort of hoped he’d wake up to Christmas Eve again tomorrow, because then Greg wouldn’t remember any of this. Only that meant living through it again, and he wasn’t sure which would be worse. “Look, G, I’ve got a plan. I just wanted you to know that I’m trying to fix it.”

”Trying to fix what?”

 _Us,_ he thought, but he didn't say it. He had no idea if Greg wanted to hear that, or even if it was true. What he really wanted was for this day to end once and for all, and he'd worry about what happened on Christmas day if he ever got there.

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," he said instead. "Listen, can we get together sometime? Maybe talk some more?"

As soon as he asked he knew it was the wrong thing to say, because Greg's expression shifted from curious to that guarded look he'd had every time he saw Nick recently. Then he wasn't looking at Nick at all; instead he turned his attention back to the table, gathering files and stacking them before he stood up.

"Look, I've got a lot of files to catch up on, and I want to get them done before I leave. I'll just catch you later, okay?"

"Greg," Nick began, but Greg was already headed for the door. "Can you just wait…"

The door swung shut while he was still in mid-sentence, and just like that Greg was gone. And that was starting to get really annoying, but Nick wasn't sure how to make him listen. If he could just wake up the next morning, maybe swing by Greg's place before their shift…if he could convince Greg somehow that he wasn't just screwing around…but he couldn't figure out how to do that when they kept having the same conversation over and over.

~

The plan was simple. All he had to do was stay awake, and between the night shift and enough caffeine to give him heart palpations, it should have been no problem. He'd worked plenty of doubles before, sometimes triples without more than a cat nap, so there was no reason he couldn't stay awake until Christmas Day was over.

He'd gone home and made more coffee, tried not to play his conversation with Greg over and over while he watched whatever football game was on. When he felt himself drifting he took a cold shower, then he drank more coffee and at one point he even went for a jog in an attempt to stay awake.

Yet somehow, without ever even going into his bedroom, he still woke up face down on his pillow. He knew without looking what day it was, knew that everything he'd said and done the day before was forgotten by everyone except him. He was the only one who'd remember all the work he'd done, on the case and on getting through to Greg. Which meant he was back at square one, and if he couldn't change anything then there was no point in trying.

So he just didn't get up; instead he pulled the blankets over his head, ignoring his cell phone and his pager when they went off. He knew the night shift was well under way when someone pounded on his front door, but he ignored that too and just went back to sleep. And it felt…good, ignoring his responsibilities for once. Not that anyone would remember when the day started over, but for now he could enjoy the thought of the rest of the team wondering where he was and worrying if he was okay.

He felt a little guilty for making them worry when he thought about how hard they'd all fought to save him the last time he went missing, but none of them would remember today in a few hours, so it didn't really matter. Besides, he deserved a break from processing the same evidence he'd already processed five times, especially when he was the only one who remembered having to do it.

But hanging around at home gave him a lot of time to think, so when his alarm went off on the seventh day he got out of bed. He took a shower, got dressed and locked the front door, but instead of driving to the lab he drove to Greg's apartment complex instead. And he wasn't even sure why, because Greg lived on the third floor and Nick couldn't see into his place from the parking lot.

He could see Greg's door, though, and he could see if there was anyone there to see Greg off. But no one came to the door to kiss him goodbye when he left, and Nick didn't realize how worried he was about it until he saw that Greg had spent the night alone. And it felt a little creepy, watching Greg get into his car and then following him to the lab, but that didn't stop Nick from following him home again after their shift.

He was pretty sure Greg didn't see him; he was distracted by the case he'd been working, just like every other night he'd worked the same case, so the last thing on his mind was the possibility that his ex-boyfriend was stalking him. And Nick wouldn't do that, because he knew what it felt like. He just wanted to know if Greg was going home alone, if he was spending Christmas alone or if there was someone new to take Nick's place.

Greg sat in his car for a long time that morning, just staring at his hands where they rested on the steering wheel. And Nick wanted to get out of the car and go to him, just to make sure he was going to be okay. But he'd already tried to talk to Greg, and every time it ended with Greg telling him to get lost. So he kept his distance and just watched, and when Greg finally got out of his car and went inside, Nick hated himself a little for being glad Greg was alone.

On the eighth day he didn't stop at Greg's place on the way to work. He meant to go straight to the lab, but when he got there he just…didn't stop. Instead he kept driving, past the lab and straight out of town until he was heading south. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do once he got there, but he wasn't surprised when he found himself in Flagstaff.

It was still dark when he got there, but he sat in his car and waited until the sun began to rise over the horizon. And he knew it wouldn't work this time either, but he let himself hope that maybe, just maybe when he got home this time, Christmas would be over. He wasn't sure how long he sat and watched the sun come up over the trees, but somewhere between wondering if there was somewhere to get a cup of coffee and what would happen if he just kept driving until he hit Texas, he dozed off again.

When he woke up he was right back in his bed, truck parked in the driveway where he'd left it the night before. And okay, running from the problem hadn't worked any better than avoiding it completely. All it did was make him feel even worse when he woke up and had to start all over again, and it didn't get him any closer to figuring out what he was supposed to be fixing.

The dead tourist case obviously wasn't the problem, and trying to help Greg hadn't gotten him anywhere either. That only left one possible answer, and Nick started day nine determined to fix it. He got through his own case as fast as he could, and as soon as he got back to the lab he tracked down Catherine and pumped her for as much information on her suicide as she'd give up.

She was right; it was a rough case, and Nick hated that Greg had to keep reliving it every night, even if he didn't remember. The kid who'd killed himself was a fifteen-year-old loner who'd left behind parents who seemed to love him, even if they couldn't get along. They'd spend the rest of their lives blaming themselves and each other for letting this happen, and every Christmas for the rest of their lives was going to remind them of what they'd lost. But the worst part was the younger brother who'd found him, and Nick knew Greg was probably picturing the look on that kid's face every time he let his guard down.

By the time he finished questioning Catherine he knew she thought he was as crazy as Warrick did, but it didn't matter. They'd both wake up in the morning with no memory of any of this, and Nick would have all the information he needed. So he bided his time, and when he got home he set his alarm clock a little earlier than usual.

He wasn't surprised when it went off at the same time it had for the past nine days.

Still, he was pretty sure he had enough time, at least if he hurried. He knew the neighborhood where the kid lived, and it was only a ten minute drive on a good day. There were already people out on the roads doing their last-minute shopping, but Nick took the back roads and managed to avoid most of the holiday traffic. He thought about calling ahead, maybe telling the parents to check on their kid, but he couldn't run the risk of his cell number appearing on their phone records. Not that it would matter if this didn't work, he reminded himself as he pulled onto their street.

But he was too late; the ambulance was already in their driveway, and there was a haunted-looking kid standing on the front porch watching the paramedics rush up the steps. Nick's first instinct was to go inside and see if he could do anything to help. Except that the uniforms weren't even here yet, and there was no way he could explain how he'd happened to be driving by. So instead he turned around in the neighbor's driveway and told himself he'd try harder tomorrow.

Only every day was the same, and no matter how many times he tried, he was always too late. He spent an entire week banging his head against the wall, and by the time he finally admitted to himself that it was pointless, he felt exactly the way Greg looked every night when he got back to the lab.

And it wasn't fair, because he'd tried everything and he couldn't save that kid. No matter what he did or how much he wanted it, he was always too late. So what was the point of putting him through the same torture day after day, if it was going to end the same way no matter what?

~

Eighteen days. Eighteen times he'd lived through the same day, and every time it got a little more hopeless.

He'd tried everything; he'd wasted hours searching for clues about the dead tourist, and when he'd come up empty he'd moved on to the dead kid. But he hadn't been able to help there either, and he hadn't even been able to spare Greg the pain by trading cases with him. He'd tried talking to Greg about the case, and when that didn't work he'd tried talking about them, but Greg didn't want to hear any of it. So he was out of options, and that was the only explanation he could come up with for what he was doing here.

Nick had been hanging around the lab when Greg left for the day, and he'd seen the look on Greg's face. He'd looked even more miserable than usual, like maybe reliving this case really was getting to him, even if he couldn't remember that he was reliving it. And Nick knew that was crazy, but it wasn't any crazier than what was happening to him.

So he followed Greg out of the lab, and then he followed him home. He waited while Greg sat in his car and stared at nothing, then he waited until Greg was safely inside his apartment. That was when he should have turned his truck back on and driven home, but 'should have' wasn't really working out for him these days, so instead he got out of the truck and crossed the parking lot. He climbed the stairs to Greg's apartment two at a time, then he knocked before he could talk himself out of it.

He waited a minute, then another, listening for the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. He was about to give up when the door swung open, then Greg was standing in front of him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his shirt was hanging open, shoes off and it was obvious he wasn't looking for company.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping we could talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," Greg answered, but when he started to swing the door closed Nick reached out and caught it.

"Just hear me out. Five minutes, that's all I'm asking for."

Greg didn't answer, but he stood aside to let Nick in. His apartment hadn't changed since Nick was here last; it was still a mess, but there were more books piled on top of the TV and a laptop in the center of the coffee table. There were takeout containers on the kitchen counter and Nick couldn't tell from where he was standing, but he was pretty sure there were at least a few dishes in the sink. Still, there was no sign that anybody else was spending a lot of time here, and that, at least, was encouraging.

Nick waited until Greg shut the door again to start talking, and when he did open his mouth the words came out in a rush. "Look, G, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I just want you to know that I tried to make things right. I did everything I could think of, I…."

"I don't want to talk," Greg said again, shaking his head and moving forward and Nick was pretty sure Greg hadn't heard a word he said. Not that it made much sense anyway, but he knew he needed to say it. Greg needed to understand, even if it didn't change anything between them.

"Greg, listen…"

"Shut up," Greg said, then he was pushing Nick backwards and when his back hit the wall Nick got it. And this wasn't the way this was supposed to go, but when Greg kissed him he couldn't stop himself from kissing back. His arms went around Greg's waist automatically, hands pushing up under his shirt to flatten against warm skin. He traced the pattern of uneven scars, seeking out the marks he'd memorized a long time ago.

And he'd missed this; he'd missed everything about Greg, missed the way he threw himself into everything and the way he kissed and the way he looked at Nick like he couldn't believe Nick wanted him. It wasn't fair to have to give that up again, but this wasn't going to solve anything, and when he remembered why he was here he dragged his mouth away from Greg's.

"Wait a second," he said, pushing Greg a few inches away. "I know tonight was rough…"

Greg made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and gripped the front of Nick's shirt, pulling him down the hall toward the bedroom. "I said…" another kiss against his jaw, "I don't want…" and Greg's lips landed on his neck, "to talk."

This was all wrong. Nick knew it was all wrong, but it _felt_ right, and he knew if he kept pushing Greg was going to kick him out. And maybe if he stayed, Greg would be willing to listen after. Sex usually relaxed him whenever he was keyed up from a really bad case, and if Nick could use that to his advantage…well, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

So he let Greg pull him into the bedroom, and he let himself be pushed onto the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched while Greg pulled his own clothes off, then went to work on Nick's clothes. And Nick had seen him in a hurry before, seen him laughing and enthusiastic as they scrambled out of their clothes. But he'd never seen Greg look so…desperate, like if they didn't do this he'd fall apart.

"Greg…"

Another kiss, harder than the last one and Nick knew it was more to shut him up than anything. His urgency was scary, but it was sort of infectious too, and when Greg reached for lube and a condom Nick didn't try to slow him down. Instead he just held on and let Greg press the lube into his hand, pouring clear gel onto his fingers while Greg straddled his thighs. They'd done this enough times for Nick to know exactly what Greg liked, so he didn't have to think about it. Instead he focused on the way Greg's skin flushed when Nick's fingers slid inside him, the way his hand curled around his cock and the way his back arched when he pushed back to drive Nick's fingers even further inside.

And he was beautiful like this, but as soon as he said it out loud Nick knew it was a mistake. Just for a second Greg looked at him, eyes flashing with some emotion Nick couldn't name, then he surged forward and kissed Nick again. It was nothing like the way Greg used to kiss him; this was all need and anger and desperation, and Nick pulled his fingers away and slid an arm around Greg's waist to flip them over.

When Greg was pinned to the mattress under him he opened his mouth again, but as soon as he saw Greg's expression he thought better of it. Instead he leaned in for another kiss, slower this time but there was still a little urgency around the edges. And he wanted this – wanted whatever Greg would give him – but he wanted Greg to remember it in the morning. More than anything he wanted Greg to remember, to wake up next to Nick and finally listen.

Something was pressed into his hand and Nick realized through the fog in his brain that it was a condom. He paused long enough to put it on, reached for the lube again and ran a slick palm over his cock before he slid inside. Greg hissed at the stretch and bucked up under him, chest and neck flushed and Nick leaned in and opened his mouth against all that skin. He mouthed the words Greg didn't want to hear against his skin, _I'm sorry_ and _I miss this_ and _I love you_.

He'd never said that out loud, not once in the entire time they were together, but he'd always figured Greg just knew. When things didn't work out…well, he'd told himself it was for the best, because it was easier not to worry about Greg all the time if he could pretend there was nothing between them. But he still worried, only now he worried even more, because Nick was never around to make sure he was okay after a really bad night in the field. He didn't have the right to worry about any of that stuff anymore, but that didn't mean he could turn it off.

Greg arched up hard against him and Nick reached between them, fingers wrapping around Greg's cock to stroke in time to his thrusts. He could hear himself chanting Greg's name over and over, and Greg let him have that much, at least, fingers digging into Nick's arms as he thrust up to meet each stroke. It was rushed and messy and perfect and he knew it was going to end way too soon, but Greg's eyes were open and he was _watching_ Nick, and he hoped that meant something.

Hoped it meant Greg would listen to him, even if he still had no idea how to explain what was happening. Right now the past eighteen days – the past six months – felt like a dream, like some nightmare he'd finally woken from, only to find himself right back where he belonged. And he could almost believe it when Greg's leg wrapped around his waist to pull him impossibly closer, pressing up hard into his grip and letting go with a moan.

Nick waited until Greg stopped shaking to move again, his hand hooked under Greg's leg to support him. He didn't want it to end, because he had no idea what happened when it was over. But it had been way too long and Greg felt way too good underneath him, and before Nick could stop it he was burying himself deep inside Greg and coming. And this was the part where Greg wrapped his arms around Nick and pulled him close, where Nick buried his face in Greg's neck to breathe in his scent…just to _breathe_ until Greg made some dumb joke to make him laugh.

This was the part where they talked about everything and nothing, where Greg held onto him just because he could. Only Greg wasn't holding on, and when Nick collapsed on the mattress Greg actually moved away a little. His heart clenched in his chest and he looked over, but Greg wasn't looking at him. Instead he was sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and mumbling something about a shower. Nick opened his mouth to ask if there was still room for two in there, but he knew what the answer would be. Greg still didn't want to talk, and apparently he couldn't get away from Nick fast enough, either.

He was probably hoping that Nick would take the hint, that he would pull on his clothes and get the hell out of there before Greg came back. But if that was how he wanted to play this he was going to have to say it, so instead of getting up and putting his clothes back on, Nick stretched out on the mattress and closed his eyes. He'd just rest for a couple minutes, catch his breath and when Greg got back from the shower, they were going to have it out once and for all.

~

When Nick woke up he could still smell Greg. He could feel Greg's hands on his skin, feel his mouth moving against Nick’s and his legs wrapped around Nick's waist. He remembered every second of the night before, except the part where it never happened.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, didn’t remember leaving Greg’s place or even if he’d talked to Greg before he left. He was pretty sure he _hadn’t_ left; he knew he’d closed his eyes while he waited for Greg to get out of the shower, and now he knew that had been a mistake. Because he hadn't _meant_ to fall asleep, but somehow he'd hit the reset button on Christmas Eve again, and that was the only explanation he could think of.

Nick let out a sigh and pushed back the covers, crawling out of bed and heading for the shower. It was his own fault that he’d ended up right back where he started all over again, because he hadn’t tried hard enough. He hadn’t followed Greg into the bathroom like he should have, talked to him through the shower curtain if he had to. He hadn’t stopped Greg before they got to the part where they were taking off their clothes, made him wait until Nick spilled all the things he’d been trying to say for the past eighteen days.

So maybe this was what he was supposed to do; he had to get Greg to listen to him, no matter what it took. There had to be a way to get Greg to talk, to let Nick in on what was wrong and how he could fix it. And Nick was going to have to find it, or he had a feeling he’d have all the time in the world to keep trying.

He got dressed and grabbed his keys, not bothering to stop long enough to eat, or even grab a cup of coffee. Instead he headed straight for the lab and tracked down Catherine, cornering her before Greg or Warrick showed up. “I need to work with Greg tonight.”

“Do I want to know why?” she asked, amusement clear in her voice and if Nick wasn’t so determined to finally get this right, he might have been annoyed.

“Just switch with me. It’s important.”

“Okay,” Catherine said, handing over the case file. “If it means that much to you. This important thing isn’t going to keep you from focusing on your case, is it?”

“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about that,” Nick answered. He turned on his heel and started down the hall, but when she called after him he stopped.

“Hey. How’d you know I was planning to work with Greg tonight?”

“Lucky guess.” Nick flashed a vague smile and kept walking, leaving her to stare after him with a puzzled expression. He didn’t really care if Catherine thought he was crazy, not if it meant he had the entire night shift to convince Greg to listen to him.

When he reached the break room he pulled the door open and headed straight for the coffee pot, weaving his way between lab techs already setting up for the party. He managed to grab a cup of coffee and make his way back across the room, and by the time he reached the door Greg was coming down the hall.

“Hey,” Nick said. “You’re with me.”

Greg hesitated just for a second, but it was long enough for Nick to get that it wasn’t exactly welcome news. “Fine. I’ll meet you out there.”

“That’s okay,” Nick said, “I can wait.”

He expected Greg to argue, but instead he just shrugged and headed for the locker room. And it was tempting to follow him inside, to stick close to him until Greg got annoyed enough to hear him out just to get him to go away. But he’d been as close to Greg as he could get the night before and that hadn’t helped, so instead of hovering he just crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

It felt like forever before Greg reappeared, but finally the door swung open and he walked out, jaw set in a determined line and Nick knew he had his work cut out for him. He didn’t say anything until they reached his truck, but once they climbed in and Nick turned on the ignition, he glanced over at Greg.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Greg said, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Why?”

“You just seem kind of tense,” Nick answered. And he knew he should prepare Greg for the case, at least give him a heads up about what they were about to walk into, but he knew if he said it wrong Greg was just going to accuse him of trying to play hero again.

“I’m fine,” Greg repeated, but they’d known each other long enough for Nick to tell when he was lying. There was something bothering him; all this time Nick had assumed it was the case, but they hadn’t even gotten there yet and Greg was already distracted. So whatever was on his mind was bigger than a depressing case on Christmas Eve, and that meant Nick was going to have to work harder to figure it out.

They pulled up at the house Nick had driven past more times than he wanted to remember, and when Nick shut off the engine Greg slid out of the truck and headed for the scene. Nick grabbed his kit and hurried to catch up with him, weaving his way through the uniforms milling around outside.

They passed the living room where the parents were huddled on opposite sides of the couch, following the flow of traffic back to a small bedroom at the back of the house. Nick nodded at Detective Vartann and set his kit down, reaching for a pair of gloves. “What’s the situation?”

“Darren Williams, 15. Kid brother found him,” Vartann answered, nodding toward the body stretched out on the bed. “The whole family was home, but nobody heard anything. They thought he was in here on the computer.”

Nick nodded like he hadn’t heard all of this before. Like he didn’t know David was going to show up any second and tell them that it looked like the kid OD’ed. He knew that the preliminary autopsy would support the same finding, and he knew they’d find the prescription bottles in the bathroom trash. He knew exactly what sleeping pills the kid had taken, that they’d been prescribed to his mother during the parents’ separation. He even knew that she was going to blame herself for this for the rest of her life, at least when she wasn’t blaming the father for walking out in the first place.

“I’m going to talk to the parents again,” Vartann said, and Nick didn’t bother to tell him he was wasting his time. He’d figure it out soon enough, and in the meantime they still had to treat the case like a potential homicide.

Once they were alone Nick turned to look at Greg again, and when he realized Greg was already standing next to the body his stomach dropped.

“No obvious signs of struggle.”

“Look, G, I can handle this.”

“What, and I can’t?”

“No,” Nick answered, swallowing a frustrated sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I just…”

Nick stopped mid-sentence when he heard a throat clear, and he glanced toward the door to find David standing there. He looked a little embarrassed, like maybe he thought he’d walked in on something he shouldn’t. Then again, David always looked a little embarrassed, so it was hard to tell.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said as he bustled into the room.

“You didn't,” Greg said at the same moment Nick said, “Don’t worry about it.” And he wasn’t; he was just doing his job, but that didn’t stop Nick from wishing he had better timing.

They both backed off to give David room to work; Greg was hovering near the door, and Nick took a chance and crossed the room to stand next to him. “I know you can handle it,” he said, keeping his voice low so David could pretend he didn’t hear them. “But there’s no reason both of us have to.”

“You always do that.”

Greg wasn’t looking at him, but Nick could tell by the set of his jaw that he was mad. And maybe he had a right to be; maybe Nick had done everything wrong up to now, but he was trying to fix it, and that had to count for something.

“Do what?”

But Greg was already turning away, reaching for his kit and glancing at the body one more time. “Forget it,” he said, still not looking at Nick and he had no idea it could hurt that much for someone _not_ to look at him. “I’m going to check out the rest of the house.”

Then he was gone, leaving Nick to stare after him and wonder how he’d managed to make things even worse.

~

The rest of the case went exactly the way Nick knew it would. David declared the death a suicide and took the body back to the morgue to prove his point. The parents blamed each other, and eventually they had to be separated by a couple uniforms. Meanwhile Nick cleared the scene and Greg found the pill bottles in the bathroom trash, and that was about all they could do.

 _Hell of a way to spend Christmas,_ Nick thought, and he caught himself just before he smiled. Instead he shook his head and packed up his kit, pulling off his gloves before he headed out into the hallway to find Greg.

He turned a corner and stopped short, heart in his throat at the sight of Greg and their victim’s little brother. He wasn’t sure which of them looked worse; the kid looked haunted, and Greg just looked like he wasn’t sure what to do. It was obvious the kid was waiting for Greg to say something, but Nick had missed whatever the question was. So he took a few steps forward, clearing his throat and when they both looked over he caught Greg’s eye.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Greg answered, but his voice was softer than it usually was, and Nick knew Greg wasn’t talking to him. “I think we should find your parents, okay?”

“But you’re supposed to help him, aren’t you?”

And now Greg looked like he might be sick; the kid was looking up at him with big eyes and an expression Nick couldn’t quite read, but whatever he’d asked must have had something to do with his brother. Whatever it was, Greg obviously didn’t have an answer, so Nick took a few more steps forward. He reached out a hand to grip the kid’s shoulder, though whether Nick was trying to comfort him or just get his attention off Greg he wasn’t sure.

Before he could figure it out another figure appeared in the hall, and Nick looked up in time to find a woman with puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks rushing toward them. “Kyle,” she said, not even looking at Nick and Greg. “Honey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I was just trying to find out if Darren’s okay,” the kid said as his mother led him away. She paused just for a second and looked back at Nick and Greg, then she put her arm around her son and steered him down the hall. Nick didn’t envy her that conversation, but if that was what the kid had asked Greg…well, he was glad the mother had appeared when she did.

Once she was gone he turned to Greg again, lips parted to ask if he was okay. The words were right on the tip of his tongue, but as soon as he saw Greg’s face he closed his mouth again. Greg didn’t want to talk about it, at least not to him. Maybe if Nick had more time…but that was the one thing he had plenty of, and it hadn’t done him any good. What he needed was _tomorrow_ , and that seemed to be the one thing he couldn’t have.

“You ready to go?” he said instead, and when Greg turned and headed for the door Nick took it as a yes. He followed Greg past the living room, past the front entry where a couple of uniforms were still milling around. They walked down the driveway and down the street to the truck, tossing their kits in the back before they climbed inside.

Neither of them said anything on the drive back to the lab. Nick pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine, then he let out a breath and glanced over at Greg. And he was tired; tired of reliving the same day, tired of trying to figure out where he kept going wrong. He was tired of Greg looking at him like he regretted ever meeting Nick, and if he was going to have to keep going through it over and over he was going to get some answers.

“What did you mean back there?”

Greg started at the sound of his voice, glancing over at him and it was quick, but it was enough to let Nick know that he was still back in that hallway, trying to figure out what he should have said to the kid. “What?”

“Earlier. You said I always do that. I want to know what you meant.”

Greg sighed and ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes for a second and it was all Nick could do to keep himself from reaching out and resting a hand on the back of his neck. Just last night he'd been that close – closer – but Greg didn't remember, and that meant it didn't count. “You always try to be the hero. For a long time I thought it was cute, the way you always tried to save everybody. Like that kid back there…I bet you would have said exactly the right thing to him. Maybe I should have let you.”

“Look, G…” Nick began, but when Greg shook his head Nick stopped talking.

“You’re good at that stuff, I’ll give you that,” Greg continued, and just for a second his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I mean, I fell for it, so I can’t really blame you.”

“I don’t…” he started, but that was as far as he got before he remembered his conversation with Warrick. “Okay, I do. But I’m just doing my job.”

“I’m not just talking about the case,” Greg said. “Do you even know why we broke up?”

As far as he knew they never _had_ broken up, but they weren’t together anymore, which amounted to the same thing. And Nick didn’t know why, but he knew _how_ , and that part Greg couldn’t blame on him. “You wanted space, so I gave it to you. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready to pick things up again.”

“So all this time you’ve just been waiting around for me to say something?”

And it sounded sort of dumb when Greg said it out loud, but it was pretty much exactly what happened. He wasn’t going to tell Greg that it was sort of a relief, at least for awhile. He wasn’t going to admit that he’d been in way over his head, and that Greg walking away had given him the out he didn’t know he’d been looking for.

“I just figured you didn’t need me around.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction to expect, but Greg rolling his eyes and making that frustrated sound wasn’t it. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

“What?” Nick said, head spinning from the circles Greg was talking in.

“Before, when I said you always do this. You just proved my point,” Greg answered, like he’d won some battle. Like he was even making sense, and Nick wasn’t even sure they were speaking the same language anymore. “I didn’t need you, you idiot. But I _wanted_ you around.”

“Then why the hell did you break up with me?”

“I didn’t,” Greg said, and if he rolled his eyes one more time Nick was going to lose it. “You hovered so much after the whole thing with Demetrius James that I couldn’t breathe. There’s some stuff you can’t fix, Nick.”

“I wasn’t trying to fix anything,” Nick said, but he knew Greg wasn’t going to believe him. Because he hadn’t been _trying_ , but maybe that was how it came across. “I care about you, Greg. I just wanted to help.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes you can’t.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Nick said, and now he was just mad. For months he’d assumed that Greg had just moved on, that he’d done or said something to ruin things between them and that was the end of it. Finding out now that the whole thing had been a stupid miscommunication – that he was being punished for caring too much – just didn’t seem fair. “I’ve been there, G. You think I don’t remember what it feels like?”

“I know you do,” Greg answered, and just for a second Nick thought maybe they were finally getting somewhere. “That’s the problem. I thought you of all people would get it.”

"So it's my fault for caring?"

“Yeah, you cared so much that you didn’t say anything for six months.”

A second later Greg was gone again, slamming the truck door behind him and leaving Nick to stare after him. He let out a frustrated noise and slammed a fist against the steering wheel, cursing Greg for walking away again and cursing himself for not getting the message before now. And he’d never been any good at these games, but maybe he should have known that Greg was waiting for Nick to let him know that he still wanted him. Maybe he should have known what Greg was saying when he asked for space, but if he was any good at reading Greg’s signals he wouldn’t be reliving the same day over and over.

~

Nick didn’t get much sleep that night, but that didn’t stop him from waking up to yet another Christmas Eve. He groaned and thought about just going back to sleep, but that hadn’t helped any other time, and it wouldn’t help this time either. Nothing would, and the sooner he accepted it the better off he’d be. So he took a shower and got dressed, then he drove to work and braced himself for another long night in the lab.

Everything was exactly the same as it had been for the past twenty days; decorations hung from every available surface, Christmas music was always playing somewhere, and most of the techs were focused more on their party plans than any work left over from the day shift. Nick expertly dodged traffic in the break room and grabbed a cup of coffee, then he headed down the hall in search of Catherine and the assignments he could recite in his sleep.

“Hey,” he said when he reached her, glancing down at the file she was flipping through. The preliminary paperwork never said much; just the 911 transcript, mostly, and a few details about whoever had called it in. But Catherine was staring hard at the page in front of her, and when she glanced up at Nick he could see that she was distracted. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said, closing the file and reaching for the second case of the night. “You and Warrick have a body in a motel room. Tourist, looks like.”

He thought about taking the file and keeping his mouth shut. There was no reason to switch cases, after all; Greg wasn’t going to listen to him, and there was nothing Nick could do to make Darren Williams any less dead. But he’d seen the look on Catherine’s face, and he realized for the first time that maybe this case was a little harder on her than she’d admitted the first few times they’d talked about it.

“Listen, why don’t you let me handle the kid,” Nick said, easing Darren’s file out of her hands. At her suspicious look he grinned as sheepishly as he could manage and gave her a shrug. “So I was reading over your shoulder.”

He knew he was doing it again, and he knew what Greg would probably say if he was here to see it. But Catherine didn’t look like she minded; in fact, she looked downright grateful, and if she didn’t mind the rescue, he wasn’t going to worry about it. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he answered, flashing his most convincing grin. “You can listen to Rick bitch about working on Christmas Eve."

“Thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes but Nick knew she meant it.

And he wasn’t going to try to change anything tonight; he already knew that was a waste of time, and the last thing he wanted to do was have another fight with Greg. They’d both messed up; he got that now, and he couldn’t fix it if Greg didn’t want to. So he was just going to focus on the case and let everything else take care of itself.

He found Greg in the locker room, bending over to tie his sneakers and Nick’s gaze lingered on the bare skin where his shirt rode up just above his jeans. “Hey.”

Greg looked up, same expression on his face that Nick had seen dozens of times by now. He swallowed a sigh and held up the case file, pretending he didn’t know that Greg would rather work with anyone but him.

“You’re with me.”

“Fine,” Greg said. “I’ll meet you there.”

Instead of insisting that he could wait Nick just shrugged and jotted down the address, then handed it to Greg. “Guess I’ll see you in a few.”

He drove out to the crime scene, pulling up in front of the house and grabbing his kit before he headed inside. And knowing what was coming didn’t make it any less depressing, but at least they could give the family some answers. That was what they needed right now more than anything, and if Nick could do that much for them, it was worth getting up and doing his job every night.

Greg would probably think that was hokey, or maybe even stupid, but that didn’t make it any less true. Warrick was right; they all had their reasons for doing this job, and Nick wasn’t going to apologize for wanting to help people. He made his way through the house, following the same path he’d followed the night before. He found Detective Vartann standing in the same place, and as soon as Nick walked in he rattled off the same details he’d given the night before.

Nick nodded and set his kit down, and by the time he finished pulling his gloves on and looked up again, Greg was standing at the door. “Hey.”

Greg nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the body. He set his kit down next to Nick’s and crossed the room, stopping next to the bed and looking down at Darren Williams. For a minute he just stood there, expression blank and Nick couldn't tell what he was thinking. He'd been weird about this case since this endless night began, and at first Nick had assumed it was because the kid was so young. But the more he relived the night the more Nick wondered if Greg's mood didn't start after he finished clearing the room, when he was accosted by a ten-year-old looking for answers.

“No obvious signs of struggle,” Greg said, and he sounded pretty normal. He picked up a camera and snapped a few pictures of the bed, pausing when he was finished to stare down at the body again. "He's so young."

"Yeah," Nick said, watching Greg stare like it was the first time he'd seen a dead kid. And Nick knew that wasn't true, but there was something about this one – or maybe there was something about tonight – that made it a little harder to take. He still wanted to suggest that Greg go process the bathroom, but he knew where that would get him. He couldn't protect Greg from their job, even if Greg needed protection. And Nick knew he didn't, but sometimes…well, sometimes Greg didn't seem all that much older than the kid on the bed.

He was still staring when David showed up, edging his way into the room and when Greg backed off to give David room to work, Nick crossed the room to stand next to him. "Listen, G, it's not going to take that long to clear this room once Dave finishes up," he said, watching the line of Greg's jaw clench just slightly at the sound of Nick's voice. "You want to finish up in here and I'll go check out the rest of the house?"

As soon as he said it Greg looked up, something like surprise in his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he said, drawing the words out like he'd been expecting Nick to say something else. Like maybe he'd been expecting a fight about who got to stay and clear the room, but Nick had already fought that battle, and he wasn't interested in doing it again. Instead he flashed his most charming smile and picked up his kit to head across the hall and dig an empty prescription bottle out of the trash.

Knowing where to look for all the evidence made things go a lot faster, and by the time Greg was finished in Darren's bedroom Nick had cleared the rest of the house. Not that there was much to clear; he knew they weren't going to uncover evidence of a murder, and all that was left was to tie up the loose ends and let the family get on with grieving.

Nick headed back toward the bedroom just as Greg stepped into the hall, and when Greg looked up and caught his eye Nick's heart skipped a beat. And it was nothing; they just happened to be walking down the hall at the same time, but just for a second it felt like…well, like it used to. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out someone else stepped into the hall.

Darren's little brother – Kyle, Nick remembered his mother saying – was ten, according to the file Nick had read a dozen times by now. He had sandy brown hair and big brown eyes and a spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He didn't look that much like his brother, and Nick wondered vaguely if that would make things easier on his parents in the long run.

He slipped out the door that led to the living room, and it was obvious that he was planning to sneak back to his brother's room. Which meant he was headed straight for Greg, and Nick hadn't interfered with anything else tonight, but this was one thing he could change. Before the kid could get more than a couple steps into the hall Nick was next to him, hand on his shoulder to turn the kid away from his brother's room.

"Hey," Nick said, dropping to one knee and giving the kid a friendly smile. "I'm afraid you can't go back there right now, pal."

"Is my brother going to be okay?" Kyle asked, and Nick's smile faltered just a little before he pulled himself together.

"Listen…Kyle, right?" Nick asked, squeezing the kid's shoulder when he nodded. "I bet your brother loved you a lot, and he'd want you to remember that when he can't be around to tell you."

"I guess," Kyle said, casting a wary glance over his shoulder. Greg was still standing in the middle of the hall, right in front of Darren's bedroom door. And Nick knew they were in there with a stretcher, probably getting ready to wheel Darren out any second.

"And I bet your mom and dad love you a lot too," Nick said, standing up and guiding Kyle back toward the living room. "I bet they're wondering where you are right now."

"Mom's crying."

Nick nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable answer and led him back to the living room, steering him toward his parents. And he hadn't really given the kid an answer, but he hoped Kyle would remember what he'd said a few months or even a few years from now, when he got around to being mad at his brother. He had no way of knowing if it would help, but maybe it would make a difference.

Once he was sure Kyle was safe he went in search of Greg, finally catching up with him out on the front porch. He was staring out into the darkness, his kit gripped in one hand and it looked like he was shivering a little in his thin jacket. It was tempting to lecture him about dressing for the weather after all this time, but Nick knew exactly what Greg's wardrobe looked like, and anyway, he didn't want to start another argument. Instead he cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow when Greg looked up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Greg answered, and Nick couldn't tell from his expression whether or not he was telling the truth. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How come you switched cases with Catherine tonight?"

And he wasn't expecting that; he'd expected Greg to say something about Darren, maybe, or about the way he'd stopped Kyle from asking Greg if his brother was okay. "How'd you know…?"

"I heard you talking to her," Greg interrupted, and for the first time all night he looked a little sheepish.

"She's got a teenager at home," Nick said. "I didn't think she needed to deal with a dead kid on Christmas Eve."

Greg nodded and Nick thought maybe he would say something, like accuse Nick of trying to rescue people again. But he didn't; instead he gripped his kit a little tighter and dug in his pocket for his keys. "So I guess I'll meet you back at the lab."

"Yeah, sure," Nick said, and before he could think of a reason to stop him, Greg was gone.

He spent the drive back to the lab weighing the merits of talking to Greg again. On the one hand, he might just talk his way into another argument about whether or not he was actually the worst boyfriend in history. But there was always the chance that things could go differently; Greg was definitely in a different mood than he'd been in for the past few weeks, and even if Nick couldn't change the outcome of the night, at least he could let Greg know he was sorry.

By the time he walked back into the lab he'd made up his mind to track Greg down and tell him exactly that. He wasn't going to ask forgiveness or for another chance or even try to get Greg to understand why he hadn't pressed when Greg asked him to back off. He was just going to tell Greg he was sorry for the way things went down, and that he'd like it if they could at least be friends. That much couldn't hurt, and even if Greg didn't remember it tomorrow, maybe it would make Nick feel a little better.

He found Greg in the same conference room he'd found him in on the first night, surrounded by the same stacks of files. Only he wasn't working diligently the way he'd been the first time Nick found him; tonight he was staring off into space, the open file in front of him forgotten.

"Hey," Nick said, letting himself into the room without waiting for an invitation.

Greg started and looked up, but this time he didn't look annoyed at the interruption. "Hey."

"Look," Nick began before Greg could ask him what he thought he was doing, "I just wanted to say that I get it. I screwed up and it took me way too long to figure that out, and I know there's no chance of making it right. But I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for all that."

He paused and took a deep breath, part of him hoping Greg would come up with a joke or _something_ to stop him from babbling. But Greg was just looking at him like he'd never seen Nick before. And that wasn't really fair, because Nick wasn't the only one who'd screwed up, but he was the one who'd started the conversation.

"What I'm trying to say here is that I miss you, G. You probably won't even remember any of this tomorrow, but I thought you should know."

When Greg didn't say anything Nick let out a heavy sigh and turned away. He got as far as putting his hand on the doorknob when Greg said 'wait', and his pulse raced as he turned back to the table.

"Why wouldn't I remember this tomorrow?"

"It's a long story and you probably wouldn't believe me anyway," Nick said, and he had to laugh at that, because it had been three weeks and he still wasn't sure _he_ believed it.

"I've got time."

And Nick wasn't sure _he_ had time, but the look on Greg's face gave him a little hope that maybe this time, he did.

~

He wasn't sure how long Greg had been staring at him over a plate of steak and eggs, but it had been long enough to make Nick nervous. Not that he'd expected Greg to believe him; he hadn't any of the other times Nick tried to tell him what was happening, and there was no reason he should believe it now.

"So you're saying that you're stuck in an episode of Star Trek."

"No. Yes. No," Nick said, flushing and leaning a little closer so none of the other diners would hear him. Not that there were many; Vegas never really shut down, not even for Christmas, but there weren't many people out having breakfast at a diner on Christmas morning. "I don't know, that's what I'm telling you. All I know for sure is that no matter what I do, I keep waking up on Christmas Eve."

It felt good to say it out loud, even if Greg didn't believe him. This was the closest he'd come to getting Greg to listen, anyway, so even if he woke up tomorrow and started all over again, at least he'd have this.

"That's crazy."

"Tell me about it."

"No, I mean…you can do _anything_. You could burn down the lab and the next day, it's like it never happened."

And Nick couldn't help smiling at the gleam in Greg's eye, because it would figure he'd go right for destruction of property. "I'm more interested in figuring out how to stop it than breaking any laws."

Greg rolled his eyes, but he was grinning at Nick for the first time in months, and that alone was worth it. "Figures this would happen to the world's oldest Boy Scout."

"First of all, even if I was a Boy Scout, I'm not that old," Nick said, trying and failing to frown at Greg's laugh. "Anyway, even if I knocked over a casino, it's not like I'd have the money the next day."

"Yeah, but you could have a hell of a time with it while you had it."

Nick wanted to tell Greg that there were other things he'd rather do with his endless reset button, starting with the night he'd spent in Greg's bed. And maybe he would tell Greg about that night once this was all over, but he had a feeling now wasn't the time. Instead he cleared his throat and reached for his coffee, taking a long swallow before he answered.

"The point is that I've tried everything to figure this out, and nothing's worked. At first I thought maybe it was about the corpse in the motel room, but no matter how deep I dug into that guy's life, I came up empty. I even tried to stop Darren Williams from killing himself. I thought maybe if I just got there in time, you know?"

"You can't save everybody," Greg said, voice low and Nick wasn't sure if Greg was talking to _him_ or just thinking out loud. "What you said to his brother…"

"I had to say something."

"No, it was good. I don't know what I would have said if it was me."

"You would have thought of something," Nick said, hoping he sounded convincing. The last thing he needed was for Greg to put two and two together and start asking about other nights, about the way the cases had gone before and what he'd done differently each time. None of it mattered, not really, because it didn't change anything.

"Listen, Greg, when you said you needed space…I didn't get it then, but I do now. I didn't know I was driving you crazy, I just thought you weren't interested anymore."

"Who said…?"

"You did," Nick answered, smile sheepish because yeah, that was a little weird. "Last night, right before you told me it was too late to do anything about it."

"I did?" Greg asked, and Nick took a second to appreciate how cute he looked when he was confused. He wasn't letting himself hope for anything, not a sudden change of heart or even a fresh start on tomorrow. All he wanted out of this conversation was a clear picture of where he stood, and he'd worry about what to do about it later. "I must have been pissed."

"You were," Nick said, grinning when Greg looked at him. "I was doing that thing where I tried to protect you from the case."

"This is crazy," Greg said again, breathing the words like he didn't even know he was talking out loud. Not that Nick was going to argue with him, because it _was_ crazy. Everything about the past three weeks had been crazy, right up until the second Greg said _I've got time._ Up until that moment Nick had felt like he was watching himself on a movie screen, but for the past hour he'd felt almost normal, and he didn't want to give it up again.

And he knew he didn't have a right, but he reached across the table anyway, fingers resting against Greg's and God, even that felt perfect. "I know I messed up, and maybe you don't want to give us another shot. But for what it's worth, I love you. Whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know that."

"Oh, no," Greg said, and for a second Nick was sure he was going to stammer something about not going through this again and take off. Instead his fingers closed around Nick's hard enough to hurt a little, and when Nick looked up at him his heart skipped a beat. "I'm not forgetting all this and going back to thinking you didn't give a damn. Do you know how long I waited for you to beg me for another chance? No way. We just won't go to sleep; if you don't wake up, the day can't start over."

"I tried that. A few times."

"Maybe you just didn't try hard enough," Greg said, smile twisting into an expression that went straight to Nick's groin. "I bet I could think of a few ways to keep you awake."

Nick flushed at the memory of Greg dragging him down the hall in his apartment, cutting off every word Nick tried to utter with a hard kiss. And he hadn't planned on bringing that up now, but he wasn't going to lie now that they finally had all their cards on the table. "We…uh…we sort of tried that too."

For a second Greg didn't say anything, and Nick wished he hadn't mentioned it. Because it was one thing to have conversations he couldn't remember, but sex was something else entirely. And yeah, it had been Greg's idea, but Nick was the one who remembered everything that happened, so he should have stopped it.

"You mean we had sex and I don't remember it?"

"Just once," Nick said, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. "It just sort of happened."

"You're making that up to me as soon as we figure out how to fix this."

"Whatever you want, G," Nick said, squeezing the hand still wrapped in his. "But I think I just have to ride this thing out and see what happens. I mean, if I wake up tomorrow and it's still Christmas Eve, at least I'll know it's not too late."

"Okay," Greg said, drawing the word out like he wasn't entirely convinced that they shouldn't give sex another try. "You're the expert, I guess. But maybe I should stay with you, just in case."

Nick didn't ask what Greg was supposed to be protecting him from. He didn't point out that in a way, Greg was doing exactly what he'd accused Nick of doing for so long. Because it was kind of nice, having somebody looking out for him, and anyway, he wasn't going to say anything to mess this up. What he was going to do was pay for their breakfast and take Greg home, and then he was going to spend however much time he had left showing Greg exactly how much he'd missed them.

~

Nick groaned at the sound of the alarm and reached out with one arm to shut it off. And he didn't want to move, because as soon as he opened his eyes he'd have to face another day. As soon as he admitted he was awake he'd have to face the fact that last night hadn't happened, at least not as far as Greg was concerned, and Nick was right back at square one.

But he couldn't avoid it forever, so he finally forced his eyes open and glanced at the other side of the bed. It was just as empty as he expected it to be, but that didn't stop him from sighing as he pushed the covers back and sat up.

He hadn't been expecting a miracle or anything, but…okay, he'd hoped. For the first time since this started he'd really thought there was a chance he'd gotten it right, because Greg had come home with him and they'd spent another two hours talking out everything they'd gotten wrong the first time. There had been plenty of kissing too, lots of touching and some whispered promises that he was pretty sure Greg would hold him to, if he actually remembered any of them.

Nick swallowed another sigh and made his way to the bathroom, staring into the mirror in the hope that maybe something would be different. Anything, no matter how small…he'd take any change at all, as long as it meant he was making progress. But he looked the same as he did every other morning, and finally he gave up and reached for the shower controls.

As soon as he turned the hot water on the phone rang, and Nick frowned and shut the water off again. That was definitely different; the phone hadn't rung once in the past twenty days, and Nick hurried down the hall to pick up the nearest extension.

"Hello?"

"Merry Christmas!" his mother said, and any other year Nick would have found that chipper tone annoying first thing in the morning. Today, though, it was the best sound he'd ever heard.

"Mom?"

"Of course," she said, some of the cheer draining from her voice. "Nick, are you okay? You sound a little strange."

"I'm fine," he said, and he grinned when he realized that for the first time in weeks, it was actually true. "Just a long night."

And he hadn't had time to wonder where Greg went yet, but when the front door opened he didn't have to. Greg came in carrying two paper bags, and Nick hurried over to help him. "I can't believe you don't have any food in your house," Greg groused from behind the bags. "Do you know how hard it was to find an open store on Christmas?"

Nick just grinned and took one of the bags, then he followed Greg into the kitchen to set it down. He watched Greg make himself at home in his kitchen, starting with the coffee maker and Nick almost forgot about the phone until he heard his mother's voice in his ear again.

"So do you have plans today?" she asked. "You're not alone on Christmas, are you?"

"No," he answered, still grinning like an idiot, and he wasn't sure that was going to stop any time soon. "Greg's here."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line; Nick knew what it meant, but he told himself he didn't care. He'd have plenty of time to worry about it later, anyway, and his mother's opinion of his relationship wasn't going to change anything. "Does that mean you two are back together?"

"Yeah," Nick said, leaning against the kitchen counter to watch Greg scramble eggs. "Yeah, I think it's going to work out this time."


End file.
